Brandon Enns - Islanders

Trevor hopped to his feet. “What is going on?”

“Trevor…” she whispered, “I thought I was home. I was home.”

“Me too. I know it. Like in my bones. I know it .”

“What if we can’t get home? What if this keeps happening?”

“Erin calm down—”

“I can’t calm down!”

“Listen, listen. We both just went through something heavy. This is just the aftereffects. The shock just hadn’t worn off, that’s all.”

“No, no. We were connected.” Erin was falling apart. “How is this possible?”

“Connected? Listen to yourself. How can we be connected?”

“How can you say we weren’t?” She continued to unravel. “It’s this place. Oh, Trevor. It’s this place. We can’t leave.”

“Yes. We can so.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Let’s take a beat here. Breathe with me.”

“What we are going to do is stay seated right here with this fire a little longer. Let’s talk through what makes sense and what doesn’t. There’s always an explanation, E. How freaked out were we before, and it ended up being what we knew all along. A game. Right? Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Okay. Sit.” They sat on the towel and faced each other, legs crossed.

“So, blood, guns, Stefan’s leg. All fake. Easy. Surveillance—”

Erin interjected, “Stefan knew I’d check the surveillance when I went to supposedly get Ashton from the basement. It was set up for me to find you going into the villa.”

“And I was led there by Cassidy, as I thought she was working with the others to blackmail me for what I had done to Valencia.”

“Stefan was down and out with the flu for almost a full day. That’s when the alternate notes came in on the white paper instead of the old scripture-style stuff.”

“He could have moved in and out as he pleased, using the surveillance to track us. So that checks out.”

“The scuba incident.”

“Bruce. It sure as hell wasn’t me pulling at your ankle. They used a cadaver or fake body to scare you and then Bruce hung back in the dark, probably dressed head to toe in black.”

Trevor shook his head with a smile. “We can’t really contest anything, Erin. I mean, they had a full crew of people, it would be impossible to have all of them unaccounted for, for any of this bullshit. There was always someone available that knew the layout of the island perfectly. They even had a cat and mouse game with me in the woods. Trying to mess with me.”

“Mess with you how?”

“Shoveling. Or chasing Cassidy through the woods with a gun.”

“This Cassidy was really obsessed with you.”

“Part of the skit.”

“Were you worried about her?”

“I was worried about you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Then she remembered. “Did you hear that noise in the woods?”

“Yeah, some type of high-pitched frequency they must have used.”

“It wasn’t just the pitch. It was like words. Being put in my head. It’s like it was saying—”

“Stay a while.” He shook his head, trying to reason with the inexplicable. “It could be two things blended as one. Some type of trickery. You heard him, Erin. They have money and resources to do some crazy shit. Remember that.”

“There was something about it though.”

“Like a weight,” he said.

“Like a weight.”

“So what? What are we supposed to do? Weird sensations don’t get us any answers.”

Erin pondered for a while. “First we talk to Ashton and Skye to see what they have to say about everything. Then, we— Oh! Your phone. Stefan rigged it somehow to get service in his place and Bruce’s. Let’s use it to call someone for help. We’ll get an emergency boat to come in.”

“Isn’t the yacht still here?”

“Arnie took it back halfway through my first glass of champagne.”

“Honestly, I think we’re okay. We’ll be out of here tomorrow anyway. Like Stefan said.”

She wasn’t so sure. “Just hedging our bets. Come on.”

They walked away just as the fire was starting to die out.

Erin knocked on their door but nobody came. They let themselves in and she heard crying. “Skye, put the knife down!” Ashton pleaded. They rushed down the hall to the bedroom; the door was open. Skye was standing on the opposite side of the bed waving a kitchen knife around in the air. “Get back, Ashton. Don’t smother me!”

He had his hands up. “Not smothering you, I just want to talk. That’s all. Tell me what’s going on. It’s okay, just tell me.”

Skye slammed her back into the wall when she saw Erin and Trevor standing outside the doorway. “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t! It’s not okay! Stop saying that!”

Erin’s voice was calm, reasonable, clear. “Skye, I know exactly what you’re upset about. It’s happening to all of us. You’re not going crazy, I’m not going crazy, none of us are. I know how upsetting this is.”

“They’re poisoning us! Torturing our minds! They’ll keep doing it. I know they will. They know what we want. Don’t you understand?” She tilted her head back and huffed out a deranged sigh. “They know what we want.”

Skye brought the knife to her wrist and held it there, contemplating the vertical slice. “I just can’t. I won’t let them.”

“We had the dreams too, Skye. We had them too!”

Her eyes softened as they looked into Erin’s. Erin smiled back as she expected a “hey girl” to leave her lips, but her eyes went dark again. “I know you did. And they won’t stop.” The blade slid down, cutting into veins and arteries. Erin just stood there and watched it happen. Ashton jumped over the bed and ripped the knife from her hands. Blood was everywhere and Erin’s knees went weak.

Stefan considered it a good sign that they wanted to leave. His shin bone hurt from the false trap—he didn’t remember setting them up. He thought he had decided against that. He must have instructed Bruce to do it. Bruce had played his role flawlessly. He’d be paid a fair sum, though Stefan didn’t believe money was that important to Bruce. Perhaps it would only be a modest sum. They had only discussed rough numbers.

It was all a success, and it was clear that the potential was now a reality within his grasp, but there was just one problem. He was in love with Erin.

Lying in bed, he let a fantasy run its course. They were showering together, the glass steamed, his hands on her hips behind her. He ran his fingers up her flat stomach, she arched her lower back. His left hand ran to the base of her collarbone and he kissed her neck. He tasted her skin as steam filled the room. Every sound she made was perfect.

Stefan opened his eyes and there was someone standing at the foot of his bed. He scrambled back in his sheets. The shadowy man was… Arnie? He just stood there, not moving an inch as Stefan gathered his breath back. “Arnie? What the hell are you doing, man?”

Stefan expected a goofy, toothy smile. Not so.

“Arnie?”

“Hey.” His voice was quiet. “I needed to talk to you.” He was monotone, robotic.

“Well, I’m free now. Let’s talk.”

“This is not the place.”

“What?”

“I guess I just came to give you a heads-up.”

“A heads-up about what? I thought you took my boat back.”

“No. The paramedic crew took it back. The ceremony. It’s time.”

“Are you serious? I hardly know those people. Shit, Arnie. I trusted you with my boat. Who’s bringing it back tomorrow then?”

“It will all be fine. They’ll return tomorrow. Just fine…”

“Whatever. Take a bottle from the cellar and get out. I need to get some sleep, man; I’m exhausted.” Stefan sunk back into his pillow. “Arnie?” No answer.